While some of the Romans were breaking open these treasury boxes and others were dispersing into the chambers around in search of plunder, a third and more numerous party, led by Rufus, continued the fight, driving the Zealots before them across the Court of the Women, and up the semicircular ascent of twelve stairs that fronted the great brazen gate of Nicanor, which led to the inner court, or Court of Israel. Twining around the sides and above the entablature of this entrance was an object attractive to the eyes of plunderers--the celebrated vine whose branches, leaves, and grape-clusters were all of pure gold. “Close the gate!” shouted Simon. Vain the command! Like some moving wall of bronze, buckler touching buckler, the front rank of the legionaries pushed its way forward inch by inch up the stairs and into the interior court. “Way there for Cæsar!” shouted Rufus as, standing on the topmost of the twelve stairs, he caught sight of Titus, who, surrounded by his chief officers, was seeking to clear a path through the throng of surging, shouting Romans. Consternation was written on the face of Titus. Though not troubling to communicate the fact to his council, he had pledged his word both to Berenice and to Agrippa that the temple should be preserved; and now, to his confusion, there was fast spreading along the northern cloister of the Sanctuary a fire that, unless immediately checked, would consume the whole edifice. Many of the soldiers, possessed by the frenzy for destruction that is apt to come upon man at such wild times, were helping to spread the conflagration by hurling lighted joists into the surrounding chambers and cloisters. Standing on the stairs of the Nicanor Gate so that he might the more plainly be seen, Titus, shouting his loudest and making signals with his hand, gave orders to the soldiers to extinguish the fire. But so great was the roaring of the flames and the din of the combat that few could hear him, and those that did affected not to understand, but went on with the double work of carnage and plunder. “’Tis useless to restrain them,” said Tiberius Alexander. “They are drunk with delight at having come as they think to the end of their labors. Discipline is at an end for this night at least. The soldier will acknowledge no master but his own will.” “Must we let the temple burn to the ground?” asked Titus in despair. Alexander shrugged his shoulders. Secretly he was not at all displeased by the turn events were taking. “Let us try at least to save the Golden House,” said Titus, commanding his bodyguard to open a way for him into the inner court. The Sanctuary formed a series of terraces, and upon the highest of all, within the Court of the Priests, stood the world-famed Golden House--the shrine containing the Holy Place and the Holy of Holies--now lovely in the firelight and flashing with a splendor that dazzled the eyes.